Of Depth and Field

Of Depth and Field

L. Edgar Otto  07 November, 2013

If my mind is in a cave and that essential to know

Not concerned with wall cast shadows

that fade into the fog as the goodness in the warmth

of my autumn coat walks with me

My face wet like with dew, the fallen leaves, slippery,

still, make no sound by my footprints

The shadows of trees and artifacts, bridges across

confluences of rivers, come and go as I turn

or walk, seem to confine me

Or old houses, shadows of past times, pine and

hardwood forests long since removed, replanted

The depth of field a dome all around me and deep

within that fog as I recall how my heart changed as well

in isolation, Kristen, we owned the whole world

Where the fog meets the walk bridge, you afraid to cross

alone in the light of day you asked me if the world would end

All soul's day after whistling in the dark mystery of how

a kettle sings and boils, Halloween masks and dance-

a real skeleton on a balcony riding a bike as decoration

A black cat all wet but razor thin its once plush flesh and

globe of hair facing the funeral pallor next door

Where I saw my first dead body with his thousand friends

in line I leaned down and whispered to him "One day, though it takes ten thousand years...

You are one we will bring back again..."

* * * * *